


all i want (is nothing more)

by obscurityofphylum



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dave’s death, Depression, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus needs Dave, M/M, Vietnam, just pure angst, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurityofphylum/pseuds/obscurityofphylum
Summary: nothing was fair.klaus knew that.but nothing would have prepared him for this.a klaus/dave songfic to ‘all i want’ by kodaline
Relationships: Dave Katz/Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus - Relationship, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	all i want (is nothing more)

_all i want is nothing more_

_than to hear you knocking at my door_

_‘cause if i could see your face once more_

_i could die a happy man, i’m sure_

klaus’s revelation didn’t come in a moment of metanoia, didn’t come from a typical sign. no, he decided who he’d be when there was a hand cupping his cheek, so soft and gentle, and blue eyes meeting his.

he decided what he was in a motel in vietnam, sunlight streaming through the thin curtains and a blond soldier next to him in bed.

it wasn’t the first time he’d been in a situation like this. motel bed, flurry of hands and clothing, sweet and slurred words rolling off his tongue. but this time was different. the hands were gentle, it wasn’t a fight; he surrendered fully and completely. trust, an old friend who he thought had long forsaken him, had taken over. even after countless shots, he was more sober than he’d been in a long time.

the soldier laced their hands together, and klaus’s breath hitched in his throat. he was no stranger to these things, but all the sudden things felt real. and the feeling of ‘real’ was never too keen on acquainting klaus hargreeves.

but the deep, blue eyes meeting his green ones, the sun streaming through the window, the white sheets, the glimmer of dog tags, the soldier’s tan skin against his pale self;

for once, he was sure that whatever were to happen, him and his soldier would be okay.

_when you said your last goodbye_

_i died a little bit inside_

_i lay in tears in bed all night_

_alone without you by my side_

he found himself in vietnam. for once, the next hit wasn’t the only thing on his mind. the klaus that had prowled each city street in search of pills and needles had been erased. he was living now, and nobody could tell him differently.

sure, things were tough. it was a war, for god’s sake. but some moments were pure gold, so simple and warm. sharing a joint with adams and weaver, feeling dave’s arm around his shoulders as the fire crackled. laughter, the kind that wasn’t forced.

it wasn’t all pretty. some people weren’t cut out for the fighting. hell, klaus wasn’t, but if he was good at one thing, it was acting a part. more often than not, they’d return to their barracks and find a new kid just out of basic hanging from the top bunk. draft papers were a death sentence, dave would say. klaus would see the tears dripping on the paper and blotting the ink each time dave would write home, his hands shaking.

he had three older brothers. two had died in service. the other was an english professor at cornell. his mom had become ill and died when he was five. he didn’t like to talk about his dad, and klaus understood. he didn’t push.

the war got more and more serious. country ambassadors hurled insult after insult at each other over the radios and televisions, old men would talk and young men would die for their words. the battles lasted weeks now, of constant fire and reload.

but at the very end of the day, when they were given time to rest and told to retreat from the front lines, the sun would set off in the east and bring darkness to the jungle. the only sounds were the chirp of crickets and buzzing mosquitoes mixed with distant explosions, the symphony of gunfights.

they’d rest their rifles against the base of the trees. they’d kiss in the cover of the canopy, giggling like teenagers. they were both sweaty and exhausted, but it didn’t matter.

they were together, and they had made it this far.

_but if you loved me_

_why’d you leave me?_

_take my body_

_take my body_

sometimes he think he dreamed up the soldier. there was no way he was real. the grin when klaus would field strip his gun wrong (everytime without fail) the tan hands over his, guiding him without any ounce of frustration. _“someday you’re gonna have to do this without me, sunshine.”_ he’d say, chuckling.

they were supposed to go home. to go to wisconsin, meet dave’s family, settle down on a little farm out west. the fantasies of escaping the life he knew had filled his head. he had built a wall in his mind between himself and the academy, everything he’s ever known, and it all came tumbling down at the sight of a gaping bullet hole in dave’s chest.

he’s always been called the useless one. by his siblings, his father, the media.

but seeing dave bleeding out in his arms, not being able to do anything about it, he’s never felt more useless in his entire life.

his body was going to be sent home to his family. klaus knew it was right, but a tinge of jealousy still plagued his mind. dave had been his. he was sure of it. his entire life, he’d had to share things with everyone. his siblings, his druggie friends. staying afloat in a sea full of favors. dave was the first thing that was individually his.

mitch and conway dragged him away from dave’s body. he had struggled with everything in him, he wanted nothing more than to stay and lie next to dave, breathe in his smell and kiss him. kiss him unashamedly, with no regard for who was watching.

he wailed as dave’s body faded from his sight, concealed by the underbrush as they were separated.

it wasn’t fair, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. he wanted to scream and cry when he got back to camp, but all he did was wrap himself up in one of dave’s combat vests, pull a black briefcase out from under his cot, and disappear in a whirl of bending blue light.

_all i want is_

_and all i need is_

_to find somebody_

_i’ll find somebody_

_like you_

he knew it must’ve taken only seconds, but the transition from the camp to the bus felt like hours. when the dizziness subsided, he found himself

clutching the briefcase with blood drying on his hands.

everything was in slow motion. he felt like he was dying. things were so perfect, he couldn’t go back. he couldn’t face another day of being who he was without dave: just another masked face of the umbrella academy, grown physically but not emotionally.

he thought he had left it all behind in the future, but here it all was, hitting him like a freight train. he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. dave’s laughter filled klaus’s ears, but it quickly turned into bloody, choked coughs.

the bus was silent. empty. usually, there’d be a few mangled ghosts around automobiles, but the bus was void of spirits. nobody screaming his name, begging for help.

he decided he hated the quiet.

klaus staggered off the bus on a street he wasn’t familiar with, in the better part of town. there were families walking by, dressed clean-cut from their shoes all the way to the smile on their faces. he knew he looked odd, covered in blood and wearing a torn army vest. he couldn’t bring himself to care.

the anger was surging through him. it wasn’t fair, nothing was, he knew that. his father had drilled that into each of them since day one. but it didn’t help the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision.

he smashed the briefcase against the concrete, throwing it as far as he could. it went up in a blast of flames, and he didn’t even flinch.

he sunk to the ground on his knees. he needed dave. he clawed at the ground, like the ancient mausoleum ghosts that had haunted his childhood. he needed dave. he sobbed, curling in on himself on the sidewalk. he needed dave now, more than ever.

but life isn’t fair, so he staggered home and drew a bath.

_cause you brought out the best of me_

_a part of me I'd never seen_

_you took my soul and wiped it clean_

_our love was made for movie screens._


End file.
